The Pious Woman's Child
by There is Only Darkness
Summary: After things settle in Luxendarc, a married Agnes and Tiz finally produce a child. Tiz goes into his coma shortly after the birth of their child. Agnes gives their baby boy up and returns to her life of piety, not knowing that the boy who's trying to rescue her is her own son and that she is his mother. Bravely Default x Bravely Second. Not canon in the slightest.
1. Chapter 1

It had been quite some time since the calamity began and when it ended. Looking back, the pious woman let a sigh escape from her lips. The world was safe and the people of Luxendarc would be spared. She remembered that shortly after the feud had ended, Tiz had finally worked up the courage to ask for her hand in marriage. After all their travelling together, sharing stories and saving each other's lives on numerous occasions, the pious woman had agreed to marry him and abandon her life of piety.

Their reunion proved to be fruitful, as she finally agreed to let him deflower her. It took quite a bit of persuasion, and in all honesty, she was afraid that she wouldn't be good enough somehow. But Tiz was gentle and patient. She knew in her mind that he would make a wonderful father. From this sole union of theirs, she wanted a child to bear. A child to raise and travel the world with, not be frightened of it like herself. She wanted her offspring to explore and to know instead of being introverted and left in the dark.

"I think that's wonderful idea, Agnes," Tiz said with a smile. Happily he circled a hand around her bare, bulged stomach. She was quite huge, in all honesty. But that only meant the baby was healthy and would be strong right out of the gate.

When the time to deliver the child came, the whole gang showed up for the special arrival. Edea held a hand while Tiz held the other. Ringabel was on baby duty, commanding her to push or to breathe when the time called for it. Agnes's whole body trembled as tears dribbled down her cheeks. Spots of blood ran down her chin from biting into her lip too hard. When the pain became too much to bear, she hollered loudly without letup.

After many tears were shed that day, a baby boy was born into the world and placed into Agnes's arms. Seeing the chubby infant only brought more tears to her eyes. His head was lined with little tufts of brown hair, almost ginger in colour. His eyes, however, were a shade of murky teal instead of the deep brown both of his parents had. Ringabel had noted that it was a fairly rare sight. The boy should have been born brown eyed.

"It doesn't matter," Tiz chimed in, wiping strands of damp hair away from Agnes's face. He knelt over to get a good look at his newborn son. Neither of them had picked a name for him, but something came to Tiz's mind almost in an instant. It was a name that reminded him of an old friend. An old friend whom he had borrowed something very dearly from, and would have to return it at some point in time.

With a sigh, Tiz made his proposal. "How about we call him Yew?"

His wife was bewildered more than anyone else at that point. After all, there was still some things she had yet to learn about him. He wouldn't be surprised if she rejected the name in favour of something more religiously adept.

"Very well," Agnes declared, smiling down at her son. She was hurting bad, but the sight of her son and her friends being all around her abated a lot of the pain. "We shall name him Yew Arrior, son of the Pope of Luxendarc and two of the four Warriors of Light."

"I'm so happy for you guys!" Edea cheered, smoothing a fingertip over little Yew's plump cheek. "Isn't he the cutest, Ringabel?"

"Of course. After all, he is the son of a natural beauty." Ringabel shifted over to get a better look at the boy as well. Little cries erupted into loud ones, and Agnes seen this as a sign that he was a very hungry newborn baby.

"We'll be going now," Edea said hurriedly, shoving Ringabel out the door before he could make any lewd comments about Agnes's body while she breastfed her son. While he protested, she shouted, "we'll visit again soon! Promise!"

And with that, the blonde squad was gone.

"How is everything?" Tiz asked, concerned at the paleness of Agnes's skin.

"Don't worry about me," she whispered, heart beating faster than normal. "We're both accustomed to pain by now."

He laughed, remembering their journey and how strenuous awakening the crystals must have been on her. "But it's over now. I want you to live happy from now on."

"But I am happy, you see, Tiz," she smiled, looking up at him. "I have everything I could possibly ask for."

Tiz frowned. "Please, don't say that."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Rest, okay?"

"Please, tell me what is plaguing you..."

"Agnes, some things are better left unsaid. Listen to me."

It wasn't long before the mere exhaustion of the day's events had crawled up to her and sapped away at her strength. Agnes, shortly after nursing the baby, fell asleep with Yew tucked firmly in her comforting hold. When she awoke, Tiz was nowhere to be found. She called out his name at first, but no response awaited her. It hurt to move, but she had grown worried, tucked Yew into warm clothing, and went out in search of Tiz.

Agnes pulled her jacket closer to her skin. The wind howled loudly, almost sounding like distant whistling against her ears. She feared the wind might be too much for Yew, so she huddled him closer to her body, nearly toppling over numerous times. Branches broke off trees and rooftops seemed as if they'd blow right off the houses they resided upon. She worried for Tiz. If he wasn't at home, where could he possibly be?

Agnes approached the Caldislan graveyard. It wasn't very far from the inn, in which place she gave birth to her little boy. Karl had wished her luck in finding her husband. He, too, was very fond of Tiz and saw him as the son he once had. She checked the graveyard, and was astonished to find Tiz face down on the ground right near his late brother's grave. No note, no nothing. Just him lying there, barely clinging to life.

"Tiz!" she shouted, juggling Yew in her arms whilst she checked his pulse. The wind rustled both his hair and her own, making it hard for her to see anything. He was alive somehow. She could feel the essence of life thrumming through his veins, but his eyes would not open. Tears spilled from her eyes once again as she called out for help, for anyone, while she clutched Yew for dear life. The last thing she remembered was Tiz being taken away and herself being carried someplace far away.

A lot of time had passed since that whole incident occurred. Agnes had never felt the same. She'd always felt dreadfully lonely. Not even Edea nor Ringabel could lift her spirits. Yew was a year old, and had never seen his mother smile even once. Not a laugh nor a simple chuckle. She wanted to believe that one day Tiz would wake up and return to her. She wanted to cling onto hope and the notion that he would be given a second chance at life, but couldn't bring herself to. Agnes was a practical woman. Her journeys had hardened her senses, and knew that wishful thinking was unrealistic and left the unsatisfied mortally wounded.

So she did the unthinkable. Agnes, in her state of loneliness and nothingness, gave up her little boy, and begged her life of piety to take her back.


	2. New Name, New Life

"The crystal shines brightly, doesn't it?" an acolyte whispered, touching Agnes lightly on the shoulder. The mere memory of darkness swallowing the wind crystal whole send shudders throughout the Vestal's body. The young acolyte could feel it.

"It does," Agnes replied quietly. Every since the incident with Tiz had happened, she hadn't talked much. It felt rude to ignore her fellow acolytes, however. Agnes turned to the acolyte clad in silky robes. "I never had the chance to thank you for sheltering me when darkness sapped the crystal of all life. Thank you. I will never forget those who had fallen that fateful day." Tears brimmed in her eyes. Innocent, ambitious women willingly gave up their lives so that she, the Vestal, could escape. Everyone she loved and cared about vanished from the world faster than she could lament each loss. Tiz was only another.

"Lady Vestal, please." The acolyte touched a hand to the Vestal's heart, wishing to steal away any sorrow lurking within it. "It is our duty. That you saved our world is thanks enough for the ones who'd fallen."

"I...thank you," Agnes cried hoarsely, enveloping the acolyte in a warm hug. "I'm just glad the crystals had accepted me back into the Orthodoxy."

"Why is that?" the acolyte questioned curiously.

Agnes had never told anyone about her child. About her one night of weakness and the way her will to resist had slowly crumbled into nothingness. The way Tiz plunged into her with given consent. At the time it'd been blissful. She'd wanted a family. The idea of it all was purely logical. Now she'd constantly been in a worry that the crystals would never forgive her for her scandalous behaviour.

But they had. Agnes was eternally grateful.

"It's nothing. My tongue simply veered off course. That is all." Lying was relatively easy for the Vestal. It had always come naturally, even knowing that it was immoral. Perhaps it was now that she felt little guilt because of her lack of emotion building up inside. Everyone dying around her had hurt her so much that she built a barrier around her heart, impervious to any kind of feeling. The one thing that broke through the barrier, however, was little Yew. She didn't _have_ to give him up. She didn't _have_ to return to this life. But in the end, she had. Nowadays she did many things without being able to properly explain the reasoning behind her them. Hollow. She felt incredibly hollow.

The acolyte peered at her as if she could wholly see the truth, but decided not to prod any further. "I understand," she replied, releasing the Vestal. "If you ever need to talk, we're here for you."

Agnes nodded, watching the acolyte walk away. The crystal's bright light shone everywhere, giving everything a greenish hue. She peered back up at the crystal, cleared her thoughts, and prayed for the world's safety just as she'd been doing her whole life.

* * *

"I have to say, it was quite honourable of that woman to just give her son up like that," Ms. Geneolgia spoke, cuddling little Yew in her arms. He continued to fuss without showing any signs of stopping. This was not his mother. This was not his family. That was not his brother standing mere feet away from him. Little Yew cried, thrashing and flailing in the strange woman's strong grip.

"He'll just have to get used to life in the Geneolgia household," Griede chided, smoothing out Yew's ginger brown hair. He offered the child a biscuit, which the strong baby threw away instantaneously. His new mother bounced him up and down restlessly. His new brother, Denys, stood close enough to observe, but far enough to not make any rash commitments.

"Would if he never gets used to it here?" Ms. Geneolgia questioned, looking down at a distraught Yew with growing concern.

"With wealth, status, and a loving family, why wouldn't the boy adapt?" her husband replied with a carefree smile.

"I suppose, but…" she frowned. Her arms grew increasingly sore. They certainly had the funds to take the child in, but in a way it felt wrong to separate the child from his mother, even if she was seeking to give him away. "Did the lady even tell us his name?"

"No…" he pondered, placing a finger to his chin. Griede turned to face his eldest son, Denys. "What do you suppose we should call him, Son?" he asked.

Denys thought for a moment. He knew that royal families leaned toward naming their children royal sounding names, but being a child immersed in comic books and fantasies, knew of none. He was also bewildered. Why was the task being put onto him? Did they think that it would somehow link the two together forever? If so, they were dead wrong. "How about William?" he suggested, flinching. He expected the name to be shot down in an instant.

"William," Ms. Geneolgia repeated, trying the name on her tongue. "I like it," she added with a smile. "How about you, Griede?"

"I think it's a splendid name," he agreed, grinning from ear to ear. Seeing the smile on his eldest son's face also added to the uplifting swing of things. He sighed with happiness and relief. "It's settled then. We officially welcome William Geneolgia into our family, forever one of us."

Everyone except William, formerly named Yew, was overjoyed.


	3. Settling In

Denys wasn't particularly happy about the arrival of a new sibling. One that wasn't blood related no less. If the baby and himself weren't bound by blood, then what could possibly be tying the two together? Little William sat across from him. He could feel the infant's eyes prying into his soul, observing the essence that made up his character. Denys stared back, but not with hatred. It was something else altogether. Indifference, he could say. How could he bring himself to hate the kid when the kid who was pried away from his mother's arms was standing his ground instead of running away in tears? The boy was giving him a chance, and for that, Denys had to try and do the same.

So far William wanted nothing to do with his new mother and father. He threw tantrums whenever his mother picked him up and attempted to bond with him. He cried whenever his father tried crooning him to sleep. Little William kept his tantrums in check whenever he was around Denys. Denys couldn't quite explain it, but it made him feel special in a way. If all went well, there was much the seven year old boy could teach the baby. Someday, William would be heir to the Geneolgia throne. Denys had to do everything in his power to prepare him for that. He himself would rule first, and he could teach the helpless baby how to do the things he could do.

The baby simply sat and stared at him for a long period of time. His eyes were wide and filled with fear. He wanted his mother back. A new father figure was now in his life. It was a change, as the infant never had a father figure in the small amount of time he'd been in the world for. His lip quivered as he mulled over these memories. A small part of him felt neglected. Did his mother simply not want him anymore? The woman who'd birthed, raised, and cherished him as her happy, bouncing baby boy?

He cried again, knowing that these new people would never be able to understand what was going on in his mind. He wanted his home back. William considered crying out for his mother, but something in his brother's challenging eyes told him not to. Whining was a sign of negativity. Hesitantly, he picked up a dried apricot, plopped it into his mouth, and relished in its dry, flaky taste.

"There you go, Will," Denys said, smiling at the baby. He nodded his head faintly with approval. "Just get used to it here. Only the strong survive, and whiners finish before they even get a chance to start." Denys noticed his gaze harden, and shook the negativity from his head. He couldn't let his brother view him as some sort of tyrant with nothing good in his heart.

Will continued munching on his apricots. The faces he made as he savoured every new taste made Denys laugh uncontrollably. It was hard to tell if he was merely mimicking his behaviour or otherwise, but William laughed as well, drooling down his chubby chin. With the support of the little table residing in the middle of the large room, he stood, faltered on his feet, but made it to his older brother and plummeted into his shins. He'd smacked his head off his brother's seemingly body of steel, and a bruise emerged on his forehead. Denys panicked, though little Will wasn't even in tears. He wasn't even worried about his parents finding out. He was worried about Will's well-being. A green bruise told him that his brother wasn't okay.

He could do nothing. There was no snow outside to put on his head to ease the swelling. All Denys could do was hold him and kiss the bruise better before his parents showed up and somehow blamed the incident on him. Moments later his mother showed up and took him away to be cared for. Now Will was in tears. He kicked and screamed for the comfort of his brother, not this woman who was trying to be his mother when he knew full well that she wasn't. She had him slung over her shoulder, scowling at Denys before departing. Denys put a fist to his forehead, his mouth in a taut line. "Headstrong," he mouthed. "Whiners finish last."


End file.
